‘Merry’ just might not be the right word for it.
There is a heaviness many people carry that wells up in a way this season that can overpower, or at least overshadow, even the most joyous heart. -A heaviness that can seem to be made stronger by the merry, and I would say in some cases ‘carelessly merry’, tidings of others- whether in a brief phone call, Christmas card, or passing greeting.
Therein is True Hope. Yes, this season is perhaps the most joyous of the year. It is the time when we recall the greatest gift ever given to mankind- the gift of an infant born, the King of all Kings come to bring us true life- life with God now and forever. Therein lies true hope. Therein lies the joy that bubbles up at all times. Joy- unchangeable by circumstances (unlike “happy” or “merry,” feelings that are circumstantial) Yet, why did He come- why did He taste the sorrows of this earth?
We Have Sin to Thank for the Heavy Things. The root of this is in His glory and our desperation. We live in a world in which not only people, but all creation groans in eager expectation for all things to be made right, for us to be with God (Romans 8:22). We groan because, though God made all perfect, He made people with a will to choose. He didn’t put a button on us that He could push so we say, “I love you, God!” He let us choose our loves. And, since the first two people, we have all chosen to love something lesser than Him, at least by the choices we make, and even one choice like that is enough to separate us each from Him (Romans 3:23). As a result, live in a world where sad things, heavy things, overwhelmingly sorrowful things mark the pathways each one of us tread.
Faces Gone By. This is a sensitive season- a time when the older you get, the more memories flood back. The faces of those beautiful people in our lives- even of those that were not so- faces which we will never see again in this life, come flooding back washing waves of memories over us. Some memories are so beautiful that the poignant bittersweet is almost too much to bear. --Sweet in the warmth of the memory; bitter in the knowledge that here, this shall never be again. They are sweet in another way if we know that when we go Home, that person will be waiting for us at the gate.
Other memories bring nothing but grief. Memories of those and that which scarred us, that mock the joy of the Infant’s birth in a season that is supposed to radiate hope. Either way, empty chairs remind, and take us back in time and well up emotion, making it hard for a person to answer a melodious, “Did you have a Good Christmas?!”
Faces Passing Away. Others pass the holidays in hospitals and hospices. Some are home, yet carry a sentence- maybe days, maybe months, maybe even years. They and their loved ones carry a tremendous burden, especially during the holiday season. Last Sunday, someone was so kind to remember this by bringing a bunch of blank cards to share with our Sunday School class for a little girl in Utah that loves to get Christmas cards. She and those that know and love her know, really know the heaviness of the realization that this Christmas will likely be her last. They aren’t the only ones.
Times Gone By. For everyone, there is a loss of some kind. These losses can darken the lenses through which we see the twinkling lights, vines of garland, and festive gatherings. It is not just a time to grieve loved ones. Even for those who have not tasted, cannot understand, the pain of those above, there is yet another pain we can feel in this joyous time. It is a time when we grieve the losses of times gone by. For some, these are magical childhood Christmas mornings, warm gathering of loved ones dear, dreams so close to coming true we could almost taste them, dreams that did come true, being drunk like rich, creamy hot chocolate- all times past, separated from our reality today by a shadowy gulf.
My Christmas: My life leaves me crossing in and out of the Merry of this Christmas, but not of the Joy.
We recently moved to Missouri- far from both parents and parents-in-law, my brother, my extended family and my treasured, long-term friends that have known me and loved me for the long haul. What I know of Christmas is different, markedly different, this year. We didn’t get to go home this year. Didn’t get to see so many people so dear to us, go to the Christmas caroling at my best friend’s house, or fall asleep on our parents’ couches.
Our New Merry: We have new things to make us merry, new friends, new experiences, a new son. So much is merry since Adam’s parents came for a few days and I know my parents are on their way right now. I cross over from the jingling laughter with my little sons by the tree to tears that warm my cheeks as I sit alone by the fire when everyone else has gone to bed and sleep hesitates to visit me. Yet, the joy of my Savior- it doesn’t ebb and flow. It carries me.
Our Heavy News: It carries me through the news I received as I did some final Christmas shopping- news from Indiana that my only living uncle has lung cancer that has spread to his bones and liver. He spent Christmas in the hospital this year, and he, too, (we, too) live with the knowledge that this Christmas will probably be the last. It carries me through the heaviness I’ve felt since I learned my mom was drinking again. The doctor said she’d have 2-4 months if she ever drank again. It’s been almost a year now. I don’t want this to be her last- and it doesn’t have to be. But, that choice isn’t up to me, and I carry the sorrow of the possible.
The Undercurrent of Dark Spots amid Beautiful Light: I sincerely had a good Thanksgiving and a really nice Christmas; it just had an undercurrent of all that my life entails today. It almost feels like my pre-lit Christmas tree looks. I tried repairing the 70% of the lights that didn’t work when we put it up this year. I smiled proudly when I was able to repair them and decorated and admired my 95% lit tree. Alas, my fix was only temporary, and about 40% of the lights are out again. More bright than not, striped with dark ribbons, my holidays breathe a warm glow that twinkles amid some dark areas. Thus, I cross in and out of Merry this Christmas, but the Joy of Christ, it carries me.
If you Listen, you can Hear People’s Hearts. In the checkout at one store, an elderly gentleman commented on the significant amount of food I was buying. I laughed and bantered with him and the checkout lady, telling them of our recent move and how happy we were our parents were coming to be with us and our kids that miss them so- so we want to feed them well. --Maybe a little too well, by the looks of the overflowing cart around poor baby Jude’s carrier.
His reply sucked the checkout lady’s and my breath away, “I don’t have anybody.” The love of his life had “left him” (passed away) around Thanksgiving. We spoke kindly to him, I promised to pray for him, and I’m sure we both went on our way more somberly.
It’s probably everywhere if you listen. As I stood in yet another line, I heard a cart jangle behind me of a woman walking by, and as it passed, I heard the woman saying into her phone, “And I miss her. You know all that times I’ve thought, “I should tell Mom that.” I hope I can be like the person on the other end of the line, being a welcome place for true feelings.
How do you Communicate Love in Christmas Greetings? All this is on my heart more this year as I recently read "Stop Sending Cheery Christmas Cards" by Kay Warren encouraging us to be empathetic in our Christmas cards- to acknowledge the losses and the fact that we know they are still grieving and that the holidays are hard. I have some friends who have had miscarriages that I know are still hurting, and this article was a good reminder to me.
I think all our greetings could be more careful, more empathetic, more sensitive to what is going on. Instead of leading words like, “Did you have a good Christmas?,” questions like, “How was your Christmas?” might be better- even tagged with an empathetic, “…I know it was probably a difficult one this year. We are praying for you.” Just a change in tone can make all the difference- a more somber sounding “How were your holidays?” breathes love to someone hurting, while the same question with a cheery tone may alienate without our knowing it.
We also have to be careful not to assure them, “I completely understand,” (when that’s not possible and can be unwittingly hurtful) or add the Bible Band-Aids, like “All things work together for our good!,” (which are true- wonderfully true- just not helpful in this scenario). I’ve found this Los Angeles Times article “How Not to Say the Wrong Thing” extremely helpful to me when it comes to knowing what to say to a person who is hurting. It is a relief to know that a simple, sincere “I’m so sorry.,” is often just right; whereas, long-winded attempts to say something comforting or encouraging often backfire.
Don’t get me wrong- I’m not saying to not be merry. By all means- let your heart soar! And even if you are engulfed by sorrows and merriness is hard to find, do not forsake the Joy in the eternal and unchanging that abides with us always as we seek God for it. Just be sure that you spread this Joy of the Season with great care, with empathetic love that greets people according to their needs. If you are one of my many loved ones who are hurting this season, know that I love you and am praying for you.
Our sorrows don’t lessen the Joy of Christmas. They intensify it. They make the beauty and glory of our Savior’s birth all the more real, all the more needed, all the more meaningful. I know that I often fall short in making it real in the way I communicate to others, and I hope that I can do better in doing this in a sensitive way, with eyes wide open to the hurting this season.
There is a heaviness many people carry that wells up in a way this season that can overpower, or at least overshadow, even the most joyous heart. -A heaviness that can seem to be made stronger by the merry, and I would say in some cases ‘carelessly merry’, tidings of others- whether in a brief phone call, Christmas card, or passing greeting.
Therein is True Hope. Yes, this season is perhaps the most joyous of the year. It is the time when we recall the greatest gift ever given to mankind- the gift of an infant born, the King of all Kings come to bring us true life- life with God now and forever. Therein lies true hope. Therein lies the joy that bubbles up at all times. Joy- unchangeable by circumstances (unlike “happy” or “merry,” feelings that are circumstantial) Yet, why did He come- why did He taste the sorrows of this earth?
We Have Sin to Thank for the Heavy Things. The root of this is in His glory and our desperation. We live in a world in which not only people, but all creation groans in eager expectation for all things to be made right, for us to be with God (Romans 8:22). We groan because, though God made all perfect, He made people with a will to choose. He didn’t put a button on us that He could push so we say, “I love you, God!” He let us choose our loves. And, since the first two people, we have all chosen to love something lesser than Him, at least by the choices we make, and even one choice like that is enough to separate us each from Him (Romans 3:23). As a result, live in a world where sad things, heavy things, overwhelmingly sorrowful things mark the pathways each one of us tread.
Faces Gone By. This is a sensitive season- a time when the older you get, the more memories flood back. The faces of those beautiful people in our lives- even of those that were not so- faces which we will never see again in this life, come flooding back washing waves of memories over us. Some memories are so beautiful that the poignant bittersweet is almost too much to bear. --Sweet in the warmth of the memory; bitter in the knowledge that here, this shall never be again. They are sweet in another way if we know that when we go Home, that person will be waiting for us at the gate.
Other memories bring nothing but grief. Memories of those and that which scarred us, that mock the joy of the Infant’s birth in a season that is supposed to radiate hope. Either way, empty chairs remind, and take us back in time and well up emotion, making it hard for a person to answer a melodious, “Did you have a Good Christmas?!”
Faces Passing Away. Others pass the holidays in hospitals and hospices. Some are home, yet carry a sentence- maybe days, maybe months, maybe even years. They and their loved ones carry a tremendous burden, especially during the holiday season. Last Sunday, someone was so kind to remember this by bringing a bunch of blank cards to share with our Sunday School class for a little girl in Utah that loves to get Christmas cards. She and those that know and love her know, really know the heaviness of the realization that this Christmas will likely be her last. They aren’t the only ones.
Times Gone By. For everyone, there is a loss of some kind. These losses can darken the lenses through which we see the twinkling lights, vines of garland, and festive gatherings. It is not just a time to grieve loved ones. Even for those who have not tasted, cannot understand, the pain of those above, there is yet another pain we can feel in this joyous time. It is a time when we grieve the losses of times gone by. For some, these are magical childhood Christmas mornings, warm gathering of loved ones dear, dreams so close to coming true we could almost taste them, dreams that did come true, being drunk like rich, creamy hot chocolate- all times past, separated from our reality today by a shadowy gulf.
My Christmas: My life leaves me crossing in and out of the Merry of this Christmas, but not of the Joy.
We recently moved to Missouri- far from both parents and parents-in-law, my brother, my extended family and my treasured, long-term friends that have known me and loved me for the long haul. What I know of Christmas is different, markedly different, this year. We didn’t get to go home this year. Didn’t get to see so many people so dear to us, go to the Christmas caroling at my best friend’s house, or fall asleep on our parents’ couches.
Our New Merry: We have new things to make us merry, new friends, new experiences, a new son. So much is merry since Adam’s parents came for a few days and I know my parents are on their way right now. I cross over from the jingling laughter with my little sons by the tree to tears that warm my cheeks as I sit alone by the fire when everyone else has gone to bed and sleep hesitates to visit me. Yet, the joy of my Savior- it doesn’t ebb and flow. It carries me.
Our Heavy News: It carries me through the news I received as I did some final Christmas shopping- news from Indiana that my only living uncle has lung cancer that has spread to his bones and liver. He spent Christmas in the hospital this year, and he, too, (we, too) live with the knowledge that this Christmas will probably be the last. It carries me through the heaviness I’ve felt since I learned my mom was drinking again. The doctor said she’d have 2-4 months if she ever drank again. It’s been almost a year now. I don’t want this to be her last- and it doesn’t have to be. But, that choice isn’t up to me, and I carry the sorrow of the possible.
The Undercurrent of Dark Spots amid Beautiful Light: I sincerely had a good Thanksgiving and a really nice Christmas; it just had an undercurrent of all that my life entails today. It almost feels like my pre-lit Christmas tree looks. I tried repairing the 70% of the lights that didn’t work when we put it up this year. I smiled proudly when I was able to repair them and decorated and admired my 95% lit tree. Alas, my fix was only temporary, and about 40% of the lights are out again. More bright than not, striped with dark ribbons, my holidays breathe a warm glow that twinkles amid some dark areas. Thus, I cross in and out of Merry this Christmas, but the Joy of Christ, it carries me.
If you Listen, you can Hear People’s Hearts. In the checkout at one store, an elderly gentleman commented on the significant amount of food I was buying. I laughed and bantered with him and the checkout lady, telling them of our recent move and how happy we were our parents were coming to be with us and our kids that miss them so- so we want to feed them well. --Maybe a little too well, by the looks of the overflowing cart around poor baby Jude’s carrier.
His reply sucked the checkout lady’s and my breath away, “I don’t have anybody.” The love of his life had “left him” (passed away) around Thanksgiving. We spoke kindly to him, I promised to pray for him, and I’m sure we both went on our way more somberly.
It’s probably everywhere if you listen. As I stood in yet another line, I heard a cart jangle behind me of a woman walking by, and as it passed, I heard the woman saying into her phone, “And I miss her. You know all that times I’ve thought, “I should tell Mom that.” I hope I can be like the person on the other end of the line, being a welcome place for true feelings.
How do you Communicate Love in Christmas Greetings? All this is on my heart more this year as I recently read "Stop Sending Cheery Christmas Cards" by Kay Warren encouraging us to be empathetic in our Christmas cards- to acknowledge the losses and the fact that we know they are still grieving and that the holidays are hard. I have some friends who have had miscarriages that I know are still hurting, and this article was a good reminder to me.
I think all our greetings could be more careful, more empathetic, more sensitive to what is going on. Instead of leading words like, “Did you have a good Christmas?,” questions like, “How was your Christmas?” might be better- even tagged with an empathetic, “…I know it was probably a difficult one this year. We are praying for you.” Just a change in tone can make all the difference- a more somber sounding “How were your holidays?” breathes love to someone hurting, while the same question with a cheery tone may alienate without our knowing it.
We also have to be careful not to assure them, “I completely understand,” (when that’s not possible and can be unwittingly hurtful) or add the Bible Band-Aids, like “All things work together for our good!,” (which are true- wonderfully true- just not helpful in this scenario). I’ve found this Los Angeles Times article “How Not to Say the Wrong Thing” extremely helpful to me when it comes to knowing what to say to a person who is hurting. It is a relief to know that a simple, sincere “I’m so sorry.,” is often just right; whereas, long-winded attempts to say something comforting or encouraging often backfire.
Don’t get me wrong- I’m not saying to not be merry. By all means- let your heart soar! And even if you are engulfed by sorrows and merriness is hard to find, do not forsake the Joy in the eternal and unchanging that abides with us always as we seek God for it. Just be sure that you spread this Joy of the Season with great care, with empathetic love that greets people according to their needs. If you are one of my many loved ones who are hurting this season, know that I love you and am praying for you.
Our sorrows don’t lessen the Joy of Christmas. They intensify it. They make the beauty and glory of our Savior’s birth all the more real, all the more needed, all the more meaningful. I know that I often fall short in making it real in the way I communicate to others, and I hope that I can do better in doing this in a sensitive way, with eyes wide open to the hurting this season.